You Can't Get Rid of the Devil
by ANerdyFangirl394
Summary: Dean faces Sam, but is Sam really Sam? Is Dean really Dean? Facing demons isn't always easy when they aren't real. Please read, and review, rated as such for language and content. One shot, angst and tragedy.


Hi :) so I had this idea hanging around and decided to write it. This is my first angst/tragedy piece, tell me what you think, I'd love any feedback.

Includes insanity, some forms of self harm, and a sort of plot twist, I guess!

Please read, and enjoy...

p.s writing this was a bitch to my feels, and rated T for language and disturbing ideas.

"It's all your fault Dean." Sam whispered as he towered above the cowering, broken man in the corner of the plain white room. "It's all your fault." Dean shrank against the wall, shaking.  
"Please Sammy. Please. I never, never meant to hurt you. Never." His eyes were wide with pure fear. His head was scrambled. Sam wasn't normally like this was he? This wasn't his baby brothers charming, loving behaviour was it? It wasn't at all. Dean was uneasy, and suspicious under all his fear. Sam took a step closer. Dean had no escape.  
"Sammy please." A tear traced down Dean's face as he looked up at his brother. A manic smile lit up Sam's face, a wild dancing light rose in his stormy eyes.  
"Oh Dean. I think it's time we faced the truth. Don't you?" Sam's whisper still louder, and more penetrating than a scream. Dean shook his head with as much force as he could muster. He didn't want the truth. He didn't need to know. He didn't want to know. Sam ignored this, naturally.  
"Dean, do you remember when you let that demon child gank me? Do you remember watching me fall, and being just a bit too damn late to save me? Do you remember that for me Dean?" Dean moaned, and pushed back against the wall, straining to get away from him. Tendrils of panic crept around his brain, Sam could almost smell the fear, smell the confusion and horror and pounced on it.  
"You aren't meant to hate me Dean, I'm your baby brother, remember?" Dean nodded and managed a half smile.  
"I remember Sam." Sam smirked, an arrogant expression overriding his normally soft, sympathetic face. Sam motioned as if he was going to strike Dean, and laughed gleefully, as if he was possessed, when Dean flinched back so hard he hit his head on the wall.

Possessed.

The thought came to mind as Dean watched Sam, trying hard to remember. There was an itch somewhere inside his brain, and he figured that if he just managed to scratch it properly, his thoughts would fall into place.

"Boy have I been through hell, Dean. All. Down. To. You." Sam said in a hushed tone, before scratching down his own face, drawing blood, giggling, muttering to himself. "Hell. Hell. Hell." Dean watched in horror for a few eternal seconds, at this warped madman.

"Hell." He whispered to himself.  
And then he remembered.  
Hell. Lucifer. Sam.

Dean launched himself to his feet. His hands balled into fists. He had never felt this much rage.  
"GET OUT OF HIM." He cried, voice reverberating off of the whitewashed walls. "YOU LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE, SATAN, AND DON'T YOU EVER COME BACK."  
Sam looked hurt, his expression painfully apologetic. He would have looked beautiful, if he didn't have rivulets of blood trickling from his torn face.  
"But Dean..." He whispered. "Sammy let me in, he said I could." He looked so pathetic, Dean almost forgave him. Then he remembered, that this, this was the devil.  
This was satan.  
This was the inherent evil force that had overridden Sam's body and mind.

Dean gripped Sam's face, pulled his eyes down towards his.  
"Sam. Sam. I know you're in there. Fight it. FIGHT IT SAMMY." He yelled, desperately trying to reach contact with his bests friend, his brother, his soulmate. "LUCIFER, PLEASE JUST GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE BOTH OF US." Dean screamed, sobs suddenly wracking his tall frame. He slid down the wall, tears streaming, shoulders heaving. "Give me back my brother." He cried, curling up into a ball.

He tried so hard to block out the sounds of Lucifer mutilating Sam's body, until a hand landed next to Dean's. He sat up, pure horror and revulsion overwhelming him. Sam's hand was almost touching his. Sam's body had lost his hand. Dean could only imagine the pain.  
"YOU BASTARD." He shrieked, voice high with raw emotion. "YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH, UNDO THIS NOW! I'LL KILL YOU!" He leapt towards the demonic man, laughing at the sight of the torment Dean was in. Dean reached up to his neck, to strangle him presumably.

Sam set light to his own body, sniggering as he did. "They all seemed to burn didn't they Dean." He said, an echo rebounding around the room, fire licking up towards his face. "Well I'm sorry Dean. But you just can't get rid of the devil. Or any kind of demon - not anymore anyways. So long." With that, Lucifer disappeared, a ghostly chuckle bouncing around the room a few times once more. A few sparks danced to the floor.

I hate to tell you that in this case, Sam wasn't the madman. Lucifer wasn't constricting his soul, or using his body as a vessel. In fact, as Dean collapsed to the floor yet again, losing himself to the loss and guilt of losing his brother, a team of doctors watched him from the window into the whitewashed room. Psychiatrists from all over the world had tried to fix Dean. But he couldn't be fixed.

His mind had been warped and injured too many times. His emotions had gotten the better of him. Every day, every few minutes, one of Dean's loved ones were possessed and killed before his eyes. Yet this wasn't some supernatural occurrence. This was a frayed soul, beyond repair. Constantly, they'd torment him and hurt him with cruel words. All the time, he would fall a little further into the trap of insanity. Until eventually, his mind gave him peace, relief, and let him simply fall, and die one day. Until that moment however, Dean spent his life fighting demons, and the devil, constantly searching for escape.

Only they weren't the kind of demons he and his brother had fought all those years before.  
This time, they were purely made up. All in his head. Some people have to face their demons one day.

Well.

Dean faced his until the day he died, and trust me when I say that there were many battles.  
Somehow, he lost all of them.  
He just couldn't get rid of the devil, locked inside his mind.


End file.
